


Reader Drabbles

by freshwoods



Series: Tumblr Works [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angry Sex, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Multi, Sensuality, Sex Toys, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 11:37:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18031001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshwoods/pseuds/freshwoods
Summary: 1. steve/reader - exploration2. steve/reader - soft sex3. bucky/reader - "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."4. steve/reader - "You taste like fuckin' candy."5. sebastian/reader - based on that pic from filming in Greece. You know the one.6. stucky/reader - taking care of you7. steve/reader - the stealth suit and wall sex





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All originally posted on my [ tumblr](https://freshwoods.tumblr.com/).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve x reader sensual drabble.

Fingertips ghost over your skin, trailing goosebumps in their wake. Barely there, but unmistakable. You gasp, closing your eyes and the touches continue, barely there, up your arms, a suggestion of heat above your collarbones. And then the touch trades for a more solid one, warmer. His lips on your throat. So gentle you shake. The only point of contact, one kiss that scalds, burns you up from the inside when he pulls away. A deep inhale, warm breath over your exposed skin, pebbling as you shiver. His touch returns, knuckles dragging sweetly down over your belly so lightly it tickles, but there’s nothing funny in the way those knuckles snake down, caress the soft skin of your inner thighs. A shaky exhale, from you this time, when his palm rest against the hottest part of you, feeling how wet you are, sinful fingers pulling you apart to touch at every part of you. Solid, firm, but not nearly enough. A breath near your ear, his beard tickling the underside of your jaw, pressing another kiss, teeth nipping gently when it stops. No words exchanged; no need for them. His fingers press, a soft, solid glide, two of them inside of you. Heavy, hot. You moan his name. he kisses down your neck again, fingers curling, moving, thumb trailing up to make magic at your clit. A hot exhale, then the clamp of his teeth on your nipple. You shiver again, this time for a new reason. His tongue soothes the bite, makes love to your skin. Duel sensations, each taking you higher. Knuckles from his other hand skim up over your side, then down, traversing the canvas of your body as he sucks his mark above your breast, beard scratching exquisitely around it, painting you in shades of blush. Back arching, thighs close around his hand still pressed inside when you finally come. Giving yourself to him so completely. His lips find yours, capturing your moans, swallowing down his name from your tongue. He’s everywhere, overwhelming you, surrounding you, cradling you, devastating you when his hand pulls away, when his clean one comes up to caress your cheek. Soft touch, thumb stroking gently at your skin. You’re his. He kisses you once more. And he’s yours.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve x reader and too many metaphors

He touches you like rain, warm and gentle, a soft pressure thrumming against your skin, cascading in ripples that make you shiver, goosebumps left in their wake. He pulls at you like the moon to the tide, until you can do nothing but surrender to the way he presses his lips and fingertips over your skin—kissing at all the smooth and bumpy terrains of your body, lavishing you with kiss after kiss, the ghost of touches that make you shudder, make your heart beat faster, until everything inside of you narrows down to the overwhelming awareness of sensation.

You never thought that loving Steve Rogers would be quite like this; that he would be a hurricane in the middle of a drought, that you would lose yourself to the fury of his storm, surrendering, drowning in him anew with each kiss, dragged into his undertow with each press of skin on skin—surrounded so completely by him, by the fierce passion always looming under his surface, expelling at random times with hidden, heated kisses that scald like heat lightning on a hot summer night, with the way he says your name like thunder rolling in with the promise of a downpour.

But here, in moments like these, you bask in the eye of his tempest, in the tranquil thrum of want, of giving and taking pleasure like ships in the night, rocking together on each mounting wave, coasting them out together, the softest sighs fluttering like a cool breeze between you, his arms around you the only anchor you’ll ever need, his eyes gazing down at you—deepest, inky blue; placid waters that lap at you like a stream—the safest harbor you’ve ever known, your water-locked home, floating in the current that runs through you with every beat of his heart.

He floods your senses, starts to move in a surge that leaves you gasping—wanting, aching—chilled and too warm all at once, pin-prick numbness in your hands where your clutch at him, holding firm like a life preserver when you’re a hundred miles out to sea, all of you ceding to the deluge of his lovemaking, to the way his rain-touched-fingertips press like hail against your mountains, your valleys, your desperate greedy landscape—remaking your horizons into somewhere he can fit, can fill, can quench that thing inside of you that always thirsts for more—for  _Steve_.

It crests inside of you like a tsunami, like wind and water and pleasure pressing at every inch of you—you cry his name, the sound lost to the rushing waters in your ears, the well inside of you clutching at your lungs, drowning drowning—until his kiss breathes air into your tired lungs, his arms holding you through the choppy waters, your bodies riding the swell together, weathering the storm consuming you, until the downpour comes with soft kisses and questing hands that fades to the quiet contentment of calm, of ease, and all that flows is love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky x reader - "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

The silk tie binding your wrists digs in to your skin; tight, confining, just the way you like it. Hands trapped behind you, between your back and your mattress where you lie, spread out, presented like a gift just for him, you’re helpless to do anything but watch the man before you. Bucky kneels between your spread thighs clad in only his underwear, fingertips ghosting up and down your legs, from your knees to the tops of your stockings, to fiddle with the clasps attached to the lacy belt at your waist. You shudder. You know he loves to see you like this—wearing the matching black lace lingerie set he got for your last birthday. You still remember the way he’d looked the first time you slipped the outfit on, stepping into the bedroom of your small, shared brownstone, Bucky’s eyes lighting up as they took their fill of you. His touch had felt like a caress then, but it’s nothing compared to right now, to the way Bucky’s gaze from between your knees feels like a weight settling over you, heavy, hot, making your skin flush while his fingers keep making you shiver.

“Bucky,” you breathe his name. “Please.” You’re not sure what you’re begging for. All you know is that everywhere he touches you feels like fire—cold, burning caresses of his metal hand, hot, scorching ones of his flesh hand—dual sensations that drive you crazy, that make you want to press your legs together for relief, but you can’t, because he’s between them, keeping your thighs spread, the lacy material you’re sure doing nothing to disguise how wet you are, how hot he makes you.

“Please what, Doll?” He runs those sinful fingers along the insides of your thighs—touching almost, but not quite where you need him. You shift your hips, trying to find some sort of leverage to press your body against his in some way. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.” Those fingers trail up, up—and he sweeps his thumbs across your hip-bones as he leans down to press a kiss to your stomach, just under where the belt lies flat against your skin.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the gesture, all words forgotten, everything inside of you dwindling down to the need igniting in your belly. “I need you.” He looks up the line of your body at you and you swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry at the look in his eye.

He presses one more kiss to your stomach, hands sweeping up on either side of your body to follow the length of your torso as he snakes his way up, so he’s leaning over you. You feel the tops of his thighs against you and whimper, body arching, needing contact so badly you think you might die from it. Bucky hums, looking down at you. “Do you need to come, Baby? Is that it?” He leans down, face mere inches from yours, arms on either side of your head holding himself above you. “Do you want me inside of you? Want me to ruin this pretty little outfit? Tear off your panties and take you?” He chuckles darkly when you whimper again, his words doing something to you. “Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You’re so wet for me already, aren’t you, sweet thing?” He balances himself on one hand, the other traveling down your body, hovering just above your cunt, but not touching. “I bet you’re just fucking  _dripping_.”

“B-Bucky—” you gasp, heat flooding your body anew.

He leans down, lips grazing against your ear. “How bad do you want to come, Y/N?”

You let out an unsteady breath. “So bad, Bucky. So fucking bad.”

He chuckles once again, sultry, nipping at your earlobe. “You’ll have to work for it then.” Before you know what’s happening, everything tilts, the world moves, and suddenly Bucky sits with his back against the headboard, both of you somehow vertical, his hand on your hips, one of his thick, muscular thighs wedged between your legs, eyes staring intently at you. “Because the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

And fuck,  _fuck_ if you can help yourself from grinding down against him, the lace of your panties and skin of his bare thigh finally giving you that sweet friction you’ve been craving. You start to chase your own pleasure, wishing your hands were untied so that you could touch him, could hold onto him and ride his thigh like you would ride his cock. You try your hardest to anyway, rocking against him, tilting your body further toward his, seeking that friction on your clit, moving your hips back and forth, moaning and whimpering at the heat of his body beneath you, between your legs, pressing deliciously against you.

You’re so wet now you can practically feel how ruined your panties are, can feel yourself seeping onto his thigh, smoothing your motions. His hands are everywhere—running over your back, your sides, your trembling thighs, cupping your breasts, thumbing at your nipples—and Bucky whispers filthy encouragements the whole time—how good you look, how he loves to see you so gone like this, how hot you feel, how he loves that you get so wet for him, that his thigh’s so slick from your pleasure, that you’re such a good girl for him, that you’re so fucking perfect, that he wants you to come, that you’ve been so good and waited all day for this, how he wants to feel you come against him, on him.

And all of it pushes you over the edge. You grind down harder, move your hips faster, crying out as the orgasm overcomes you, as your body starts to shudder, legs quivering with the force of it. Your body suddenly feels so weak, so wholly drained and sated. You lean your head against the crook of Bucky’s neck, taking deep, gasping breaths.

His arms wrap around you, freeing your wrists. You drop your arms to your sides, unable to muster the energy to move. His cock is hard against you, but he doesn’t seem intent on moving things along just now, and you’re grateful. Those same fingers that had driven you crazy earlier now a gentle comfort as they move up and down your back. You feel Bucky press a kiss to the top of your head and close your eyes, basking in his affection.

“God, that was fucking perfect. You’re amazing, Doll.” He moves a hand to cup your face, tilting your head up until he can gaze into your eyes. “How did I get so lucky?”

You close your eyes for a moment, the grin shaping your lips without a conscious effort. “I’m the lucky one. You always take such good care of me.”

“You deserve it, Y/N.” He brings his lips down to meet yours in a gentle kiss. “I love you.”

You let him kiss you again before you respond, “I love you, too, Bucky.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve x reader: “You taste like fuckin’ candy”

Your eyes lock from across the room. He steals the breath from your lungs, your hand gripping desperately at the glass of champagne you hold when his intense find yours. You can’t see, but you know his eyes are blue, just like you know his name and his birthday and everything else written in the books about him - but you also know the little things, like how his eyes squint in the sun, or how he looks when he’s sleepy, how he kisses when he wants to seduce you, making you remember who you belong to.

He’d showed you that particular thing right before the two of you left for the Gala, arriving in separate cars even though you already knew you’d be leaving together. It was a game he liked to play, one you secretly liked to go along with, him acting unaffected by anything you did, from your harmless flirting to the way your dress clung to you in all the right ways. It was just a waiting game now, counting the minutes until he finally stopped fucking staring at you and took control of the situation.

And boy, did you love when he took control.

You drain your drink, not giving a damn about impropriety at the moment, and reach for another one when a waiter walks by with a tray. Steve looks away from you, shoving his hand into his suit pocket.

And that’s when you feel it, with your champagne glass poised on your lips - the vibrating panties he’d begged you to wear start to rumble, buzzing against your labia. You suck in a quiet breath, eyes scanning for Steve’s, but he’s still deep in conversation. You realize you’ve been spacing out on your own conversation and force yourself to tune back in to hearing all about the benefit, even though you’ve already heard this exact speech at least twice already since the Gala started.

The night continues on like that - slowly, tortuously, the vibrations turning up and down randomly, keeping you on the edge, always when Steve seems immersed with someone else, acting for all the world like he’s the picture of innocence, instead of the devil responsible for you soaking through those vibrating panties. Damnit, they were expensive.

All of that, of course, flies out the window when you’re on your way to the restroom near the end of the event and you feel a hand tug at your elbow, the door of the coat closet trapping you inside with them. The barely-lit room is quiet, and all you hear is the breathing of the person before you, the silhouette of broad shoulders - and then his mouth is on you, devouring you, his hands roaming over every inch of your tight dress, tracing your curves and outlines. He pulls away with a growl that makes you whimper.

“God, baby girl, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

His raspy voice makes you shiver, and you cling tighter to him. “Then what took you so long?” You breath the question, your lips seeking his in a filthy kiss before he pulls away once more, chuckling darkly.

“Someone’s desperate tonight. Did you like our little game?”

And fuck, the panties, which had been turned off sometime ago, flare to life with abandoned. The vibrations haven’t been this high all night. You gasp, clenching your legs together, knees feeling weak, overwhelmed by how good the vibes feel against you. “Steve!”

“I asked you a question, baby girl. Did you like it?”

You whine, unable to help yourself, nodding frantically as your thighs start to quiver, orgasm threatening. “Y-yes. Fuck, yes Daddy, I like it!”

The vibrations cease. You let out a breath, clutching at his shoulders. “That’s my good girl.” His eyes gleam in the low light, looking down into yours. His hands slide from your waist across your hips, down to squeeze at your ass, pulling you closer toward him, Steve grinding his erection against your stomach. “Are you ready for your reward?”

You nod, unable to say anything, transfixed by him and the dark room, by the feel of his hands on you - and then suddenly he spins you around, so that you face the door, your hands flying out to steady yourself while he kneels down, pressing a kiss right below the hem of your dress, those sinful fingers pulling it up, up, until your skirt pools at your waist. He kisses up the back of your thigh, hands grabbing your hips to pull you back, until your back bends, your own hands grasping at the door frame for balance, ass pushed out and on display for him. You know he can see every inch of you, even in the low light, and he groans at the sight, biting at the flesh of your ass cheek before he uses his teeth to pull your panties down the long lines of your legs, until they pool at your ankles.

His hands move then, to your ass, to spread your cheeks, to get a good, long look at you. And then he moves - you feel hot breath against your cunt right before his tongue delves out to lick at you, swirling around your clit, up to your opening, tasting you.

He pulls back with another long groan. “Shit, Y/N, you taste like fuckin’ candy,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his words so, so reminiscent of the vibrating panties that you whimper, right before he goes back to eating you out. He’s thorough with his ministrations, tongue moving everywhere, seeming to hit every single one of your spots. He lavishes your clit with attention until your hips start to move back toward his face, then he moves you tongue-fuck you, tasting every inch of you, swirling his tongue around inside of you until everything narrows down to the man between your legs.

Eventually, he goes back to sucking on your clit, working at it like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever tasted, like it’s hard candy he can’t get enough of. It’s not long until your thighs start to tremble once more and you reach back, getting a grip on his hair to pull him back. “D-daddy, I’m gonna -” but Steve sucks harder at your clit, shaking his head against you - and that’s all it takes; you lose it, letting the orgasm that’s been building all night settle over you like a wave. You pant his name, your body shuddering, gripping the door so hard you’re afraid you might splinter the wood.

Steve pulls back with another lick, from front to back, and a second bite at your cheek that makes you shudder anew before he palms at your sides, then slowly brings you down to the floor to settle in his lap. Wrapping his arms around you, he presses a kiss to the side of your neck. “You were so good, baby girl. So fucking good.” You still feel his erection, pressed against your bare ass through the trousers of his suit, but when you reach back to touch him, he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “Later, baby. We have to go soon, but I promise you’ll get my cock in you later.” He moves a hand up to cup your cheek, moving your head toward his so he can kiss you. “After I taste you again. Maybe twice.” Another kiss, this one more a brush of his lips against yours as you take in what he’s suggesting. “Think you can handle that?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yes, Daddy.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble based on [ this picture](https://freshwoods.tumblr.com/post/178319988268/suddenly-i-have-an-urge-to-take-a-seat-thanks-for)

You drop to your knees, the wood hard and unforgiving against you as you fit yourself into the space between Seb’s splayed thighs. You could tell by his face when he walked through the door that was tired from a long day of filming. And when he sat down on the couch, reclining deep into the cushions, you knew what you could do for him, to help him unwind. Now, you run your hands up the tops of his thighs, leaning your body over his, looking up the line of his body. His face is impassive. “What are you doing, Y/N?”

You shrug innocently, fingers trailing lightly over his hips to the buckle of his belt. “You look stressed, Babe. Like you need a little…relief.” Your lips twitch up at that, the line of his mouth deepening into a scowl that makes you shiver.

He looks down at you considering, barely even lifting an eyebrow in response, as if to say, ‘go on.’ You do. You unbuckle his belt, pulling the two ends apart to get at the button of his slacks. Your knuckle accidentally brushes lower and you feel how hard he’s starting to get, pressed up against the fly of his pants. “Look who came out to play.” You punctuate your words by pressing your hand against the front of his pants, feeling his erection through them. You give him a little squeeze for good measure and he hisses above you, hand reaching out to grab a fistful of your hair. It makes you gasp and look up at him.

There’s a dark look in his eyes, an edge of desperation, a barely controlled energy to him. “Don’t tease me, Darling, not right now.”

Your heart beats faster in your chest, hands stilling. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good,” he lets go of your hair, scowl back in place. “Now show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

You swallow hard, cheeks getting warm, and look back to his lap. Biting your lip, you reach for the zipper, slowly dragging it down. Seb shifts a little on the couch when you’re done, spreading his legs wider. You fit your fingertips under the waistband of his underwear, mouth dry as you drag them down, fitting them just under Sebastian’s balls, the hard line of his cock pressing up against his stomach, where the white tank he wears had ridden up just a little. He looks divine, like some kind of sinful statue come to life. You want to taste him, to feel him in your throat, to choke on that thick cock.

You make a noise when you finally wrap your lips around him, Seb’s fingers clenching in your hair, hurting in that stinging way you like. He pushes your head down and you gladly let him take control. You’re wet already, knees hurting from your position on the hardwood, but you suck him in deeper, working your tongue as best you can, letting him fuck up into your mouth, using you to take his pleasure. Seb groans softly from above you. “That’s it, Sweetheart. Such a good girl for me. Open that fucking mouth, let me in.”  

You whimper, his words doing something to you, and open your throat for him. You take him deeper, not even needing his hand to guide you down, until you’ve got most of him in your mouth, nose pressing against the soft dark hairs at his base, tears stinging at your eyes—but you force yourself to stay just how you are—and make yourself swallow against him.

“Fuck!” Seb’s other hand comes to your head, too, pulling you up with a pop that sounds loud in the quiet room. Seb breathes hard as you gasp in air, blinking out tears. The head of his cock is red and shiny, captivating, and you look up from it to Seb, his eyes darker than they’d been before, biting his lip, unaffected façade finally broken. You keep eye contact as you suck the head of his dick back into your mouth, tonguing at the slip before sucking with gusto.

Seb groans again. “Shit, Baby, you keep that up and I’m gonna come.”

You pull back, slurping at his cock, one hand coming down to work him at the root, stroking tight and firm. “Then do it, Sir.” You lean back down, ignoring his cock for a moment as you suck at the sensitive skin of his balls. “Use my mouth. I want you to.”

He shakes his head a little, a soft smile playing at his lips before his hands go back to your hair, guiding you down one more time. This time, he’s relentless. He pushes you down to the root, until your lips are sealed around him, his hand pressing hard against the back of your head. You feel yourself choke around him, eyes leaking as you force them tightly closed. Seb moans your name, holding you like that for another long moment before he lets you go, only to start thrusting his hips up and down in time with the movements of your head. You can barely get enough air, desperately breathing through your nose, but you fucking love ever moment of it. Seb completely surrounds you, his hands on your hair, his taste on your tongue, his body hard and warm against yours. It’s perfect; it’s exactly what you wanted and what you wanted to give him.

You can feel the way he trembles beneath you, the way his thrusts get erratic and sloppy, so you double your efforts, sucking harder. Seb comes with a breathy groan, hands on your head like vices, keeping you still as he works his cock in and out of your mouth. You taste his come on your tongue, letting it fill your mouth only to drip out around his cock, running down your chin. You take a moment to spit onto the floor, knowing you’ll clean it up later, before you go back, nursing at the head of his cock like it’s your favorite candy, until he shudders and lifts your head away.

He’s breathing hard, the collar of his tank a little sweat-soaked, but he smiles at you, sated, petting your hair back from your face before he grabs your hands, pulling you up from the floor. You settle against his lap, his flaccid cock pressed against your core. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are even through your clothes. “God, I fucking love you, Y/N. You’re perfect. Thank you”

You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning down to kiss him. It’s just a peck, but the appreciative sound he makes in his throat is worth it. “Mmm. Welcome home, Baby.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stucky taking you apart

They take you apart slowly, their hands ghosting over your skin, gentle and coaxing—goosebumps rising in the wake of their calloused fingertips—urging the sweetest sounds from your throat. They take turns swallowing down your sighs and moans, their lips on yours, softening you up with the sweetest kisses. Your heart flutters in your chest, beating its wings to the rhythm of their breaths, to the way they whisper your name. You shiver as Bucky’s hand trails lower, snaking over your hip, thumb stroking for a moment before moving further down, slipping between your thighs with ease. Steve’s lips move to your throat, sucking gently as Bucky’s hand begins to move—to play you like an instrument he crafted with his own hands, smart fingers making your body ache with the pleasure of their promise. Steve’s sweet mouth moves down to take one of your nipples into between his lips, sucking on it in exactly the way he knows drives you crazy. You run your fingers through Steve’s soft hair, his mouth so warm and perfect on your skin—and you’re not sure how you got to be so lucky, not sure what these beautiful men see in you, but you accept their love, take everything they give you, greedy for their touches and kisses, for their sweet murmurings, for the way their eyes soften when they look at you too long, the way they give you these long, unhurried moments—the way they worship you and make you feel deserving of their love.

Bucky’s finger slips into you with ease—so wet for them, always so fucking wet—his thumb working wonders on your clit, thick digit crooking perfectly, ripping a moan from your throat. Steve’s teeth graze your nipple and you shiver, hands tightening in his hair. You aren’t expecting it when you feel a second finger pressing inside of you—and you know it’s Steve’s, can feel the difference in the angle—and it shouldn’t be so hot, both of them inside of you, especially when you’re not quite ready for it, but the stretch feels better than it has any right to. Their fingers work together, fucking you until you can feel your slick smearing on your thighs. You reach out with your free hand for Bucky’s shoulder, meeting his eyes over Steve’s head.

“Please.” It’s barely a whisper, a needy little thing.

Steve moves first, taking his hand away to reach up and press his wet finger against your mouth. He lifts his head to watch you suck as Bucky moves himself to better lie between your spread thighs, his tongue moving between your folds to taste you, fingers spreading you open for him. You moan around Steve’s finger, closing your eyes for a moment when he presses it further into your mouth, twisting in a mimic of the way he’d moved inside of you.

You open your eyes when you feel him shift above you, see Steve from this new perspective, his thighs cradling your head, his gorgeous cock so close to your mouth, already so shiny and wet at the tip. Your mouth waters for it.

“Please,” you beg again, needing them to keep doing this, to give you everything you need.

Steve guides his cock to your lips. You let it part them, let him push inside, looking up the length of his chiseled body, his stomach tightening as you wrap your lips around him, tongue working at the slit on his head, at the sensitive spot just beneath. You move your head up, wanting—needing—more of him inside of you, but you can’t move from this position, can’t do anything but let Steve’s hand come up to cradle the back of your skull as he begins to fuck your face. Bucky picks that moment to add two fingers back inside of you, sucking on your clit like it’s the best candy he’s ever tasted, like he could roll it around in his mouth and devour you.

You whimper around Steve’s cock, Bucky between your legs almost too much—desperately, you try to move your hips, but Bucky’s iron grip won’t let you. It’s a constant assault from his lips and fingers, just as Steve’s cock pressing against the back of your throat is. You want to choke on it, want to show your boys just how good you can be for them. You will yourself to relax, to take, to let them give you this. Steve starts to whisper praises, to tell you how good you look—and feel—around him like this, how good you’re being for Bucky. More than once Steve looks over his shoulder to watch Bucky. You can’t see him with Steve in front of you, but Bucky always moans against you when Steve catches his eye, when he reaches a hand back to probably run it through Bucky’s hair.

He looks back to you, thrusting into your mouth, holding your head—and when he tells you to come, you do.

Bucky moans louder, lapping at your wetness until you can feel it dripping down onto the bed. Your face goes red and Steve pulls away, moving off of you to sit near Bucky, Steve’s cock sloppy and wet from your mouth, Bucky’s face in the same state from your orgasm. They kiss while Steve reaches out to wrap his fingers around Bucky’s cock. Bucky breathes Steve’s name when they part, his eyes moving between Steve and you, then back to Steve. He leans over to whisper something into Steve’s ear that makes both men grin before looking back to you with hungry expressions. You swallow hard, your heart once again rabbiting in your chest. Bucky moves first, crawling between your thighs, kneeling there, hands wrapping around them to pull your hips up, then pulling the rest of you—boneless from your orgasm—up to settle in his lap. He wraps his arms around you, kissing you. You taste yourself on his tongue, know he must taste Steve. He deepens the kiss, his mouth against you, arms holding you—Steve’s hands snaking softly up and down your back—until you sigh out your last restraint against his lips, let yourself be moved, spread your legs wider for Bucky when he finally presses inside of you.

You gasp—each time feeling so much like the first time, breaking the kiss and throwing your head back when his hands move to your hips, when he starts to lift you and bring you back down, fucking you slowly, deeply, making you feel every inch of him. Steve takes that moment to bring his hands around your front, one guiding over your throat to turn your face toward his, his strong chest pressing against your back. He kisses you—hard and filthy, the contrast between Steve’s mouth and the way Bucky thrusts inside of you almost too much, too radically different. You feel fingers on your clit right before Steve breaks the kiss, moving a hand to press you forward, up against Bucky. He takes the moment to suck on your neck—the same spot Steve had sucked a small bruise onto earlier—and then you feel Steve’s cock slide against you, feel him hard and hot between your legs, feel the way Bucky shivers against you when Steve’s head presses against his cock—and you understand.

They shush you as you whimper, unable to form words, the hand on your clit making your legs shake as Steve works himself inside of you beside Bucky. It’s too much—you’re too full. Every time they do this you always wonder how they manage. It should be impossible to be this full, to feel so much pleasure—just on the verge of pain, stretched to the limit, body aching for release. Yet it only lasts a small while, and then they start to move, their moans and sighs a symphony, your sounds adding to the mix. Hands trail over your skin, you’re not even sure who’s is who’s, so lost to the feeling of them between your legs, inside of you, giving you pleasure and taking their own.

The hand on your clit is relentless—you think it’s probably Steve’s, but you can’t be sure—and with a pointed swivel of Bucky’s hips, you’re coming again, clenching down hard on their cocks as you yell their names until your throat feels hoarse. You feel kisses then, on your neck and shoulders, their mouths soft and gentle as you catch your breath. Bucky moves first, whispering apologies against your throat when you gasp, still so sensitive. Steve isn’t far behind him, both of them panting into your skin, their hands reaching and clenching over you—you once again boneless, sated, feeling lighter than you have in days.

You don’t know who comes first—but suddenly they’re both moaning, thrusts turning erratic, leaning over your shoulder to meet each other in a sloppy kiss until both of them still, the three of you synchronously breathing hard, a cadence your pulse marches to. You can feel Steve’s heart beat a tattoo into your back, Bucky’s heart a slightly faster tempo against your chest. Surrounded like this—wrapped up in the embraces of the men you love, sated, happy—still full of them both—you let your eyes drift closed on a sigh.

This is exactly what you needed. And you know the night isn’t over yet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> steve + stealth suit + you + wall

You know as soon as the words leave your mouth that you’ve made a mistake. You can see it in the way his face tightens, the way those eyes go dark, gleaming dangerously in the light of the room. You’ve been playing with him all afternoon, teasing him while he’s out there in danger and you’re at home in his safehouse, being the brat you know he secretly loves. You wanted to be good for him eventually, after you played just a little bit more, but you swallow hard now, knowing you’ve pushed too far.

Slowly, animalistically, he stalks over toward you. You feel your pulse race, backing up from him. “What did you just say to me?” His words are low, dangerous, and a hot tingle races down your spine.

Your back hits the wall. Nowhere to go. Your heart races as he stops, too. You lift your head, defiant as ever. “I said, if you can’t give me what I need maybe I’ll get it from someone else.”

As if a switch is flipped, Steve closes the distance between you faster than you can see, pinning you against the wall with his body. You can feel the buckles of his stealth suit dig into your chest and stomach and you suck in a sharp breath. He looms dangerously over you, his hands braced on the wall behind you, arms on either side of your head, trapping you. He leans in, too-long hair falling into his face, mouth drawn down into a solid, tight line, eyes squinted like you’re prey. Anger lurks just beneath the surface.

“Is that what you want? You’re so desperate to be fucked that you’d just let anyone have you?” a hand reaches out to circle your throat as he leans in closer, until there’s barely any room between the two of you, Steve looking down at you with that dangerous air around him. You have no doubt he can feel the way your heart beats in your chest, hear the way your breath hitches. You’re wet already, have been since before he came home, since you saw him still in his uniform, since he kissed you hard when he saw you, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin. “I don’t think so, Y/N. You’re mine. You belong to me.”

You know you’ll regret this, too. “Prove it.”

Steve descends on you with a growl, anger and passion and jealousy all mixed up into one single sound that makes you whimper, his hand on your throat tightening, lifting your head up as his lips attack yours, as his free hand moves down to hike up the bottom of the dress you put on this morning just waiting for the moment he would take it off of you, his fingers finding your pussy bare, roughly circling your clit, his mouth waging a war on yours you want to lose yourself to.

His mouth moves down, biting at your neck, making you whimper and moan. He slips two fingers inside of you without any warning and you gasp, clenching around him, overwhelmed already by his mouth and fingers, by the marks you know he’s leaving on you, by the way he’s already finding your g-spot, getting you so close so fast like no one else can.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Fucking dripping for me.” He whispers against your ear, breath hot, lips biting hard at your earlobe.

You let out an unsteady breath. “A-Anyone could make me wet. Anyone could make me come. You’re not special.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills the air and you feel cold air on your suddenly exposed body, right before Steve’s arms move to lift you up, your legs wrapped around his hips, his erection pressing firmly against your wet pussy through the layer of his suit. He grinds against you, pressing you roughly into the wall. Your breath hitches as the bricks scratch at your shoulder blades.

“We’ll see about that, Sweetheart.” His words sound more like a threat than a promise and you shiver. You hear a buckle coming undone, but his lips find yours again, his beard scratching at your skin in the most delicious way, distracting you. That is, until the blunt head of Steve’s cock presses against you.

Your heart races. You’ve never taken him without extensive prep. “S-Steve what—”

“Shut up.” He growls, adjusting you in his arms. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Been waiting all day for me to fuck you. You wanted it, so fucking take it.”

He pushes inside, his grip on you loosening so gravity can help do some of the work. He’s so big inside of you, even just getting his head in is a struggle. You’re so full; it feels like all the air’s been punched out of you, but he keeps going, giving you all of him, until you feel almost split open, the pleasure-pain almost too much—but then his fingers find your clit again—and then he starts to move.

He fucks into you hard, setting a nearly brutal pace, hard and deep, using your body for his pleasure. Each thrust rips a moan or a whimper or his name from your throat. You press into the brick behind you, needing to feel that little bit of extra pain as his mouth sucks bruises against your neck and shoulders.

You’re so close already, the heat inside of you building up to a boiling point, but each time, his fingers slow down or stop altogether. “Steve—Steve please.”

He thrusts sharply, making you gasp. “Please what, Y/N? What is it that you want from me?”

You close your eyes, frustration making them wet. “I wanna come. Please. Please. Please let me come. No one makes me feel like you do. God.”

He stills inside of you, his hand, wet with your juices, coming up to grip roughly at your face. You open your eyes to see him—hair disheveled from your fingers, sweat beading at his temples, his suit still impeccable even now, Steve fully dressed with just his cock out, inside of you, while you’re naked.

“You want to come?” His face softens as he looks at you, eyes sweeping over your face lovingly. He strokes your face and leans in close. “But I thought anyone can make you come.”

Without warning, Steve pulls out, depositing you on your unsteady feet against the wall, naked, with your juices running down the insides of your thighs. He steps back, looking poised as ever in his suit, even with his cock out and shiny with your slick.

“Go find one of them, because I’m not letting you come tonight.”

You watch in agonized awe as he saunters away, whimpering at his back. Yep. You are definitely going to pay for that mistake.


End file.
